


Drabbles revolving around TMNT

by orphan_account



Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-21
Updated: 2015-02-21
Packaged: 2018-03-14 10:27:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3407261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Short texts, drabbles, little glimpses into a bigger picture. Randomness ensured.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. It barely touched me.

It barely touched me, the sharp blade only slightly grazing my skin. But it touched me and that was enough. The poison was strong and quickly rendered my superior motors kills useless.  
Good thing Leader-Bro is nearby. He somehow evades all arrows, deflecting some of them with his shell. I should have done that, turned my back at the pointy things, instead of flip-flopping all over the place in mockery. But who could have known they use poison now!  
I feel dizzy, and Leo tossing me over his shoulder does not help either.


	2. It may not have been designed to fit in such a tight space.

The blue material started pressing against the walls and was still expanding further. The entrance was almost completely blocked and Leonardo let out a deep sigh.  
“Donatello. You really have to think this over.”  
A few seconds passed before his brother stopped pumping and looked up, defiance and determination showing on his face. Leonardo regretted to have agreed to this. He did not want to deny Donatello his pleasure, but the physical restrictions could not be ignored.  
“Don’t inflate it any further.” Leonardo tried to be as diplomatic as he could. “It may not have been designed to fit in such a tight space.”  
Donatello looked slightly disappointed but had to agree that this paddling pool was indeed a fraction too large for the room he had planed to install it in.


	3. Appearance does not matter much when it is cold.

The sewers were cold during the winter months. The stones conserved the chill, eradiating frostiness and sucking warmth out of whatever came close to them. None of the brothers particularly fond of dressing in human clothing - but they disliked icy skin, shivers and clattering teeth even more.   
It was not easy to find fabric that fit over their bulky forms, and they would have to make several adjustments to whatever they salvaged. Raphael often wore several skirts on top of each other, while Michelangelo preferred bathing-gowns and scarfs.   
As long as they were warm, they did not care how hilarious they looked, sleeping most of the time away in their little nest.


	4. Hand and Face

Donatello was very wary while tending to the large mutants injuries. He could never allow himself to let his guard down around the crocodile, not even when Leatherhead was more or less tranquilized.   
The fact that his head was chosen as personal stress ball was not pleasurable. And recently Leatherhead was experiencing severe amount of stress, so Donatello hoped that the dosage he administered was high enough. Regardless of the constant threat of having his head crushed by giant claws, Donatello continued to clean the wounds.   
He owed Leatherhead that much for saving Michaelangelo.  
Absolutely focused on stitching the thick skin back together again, Donatello didn’t notice Leatherhead started to slowly move his arm. Without a warning, scaly skin connected with Donatello’s face and the turtle froze in place.   
Rubbing the back of his hand over Donatello’s cheek - a clumsy attempt to caress the face instead of grabbing it – Leatherhead mumbled a few thankful words and drifted back into his drug-induced slumber.


	5. Nothing Left

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: character death

He knew they were not untouchable, and with the lifestyle they had, they would probably never grow old. Most likely death would come to them in battle and not in bed. They got into smaller fights on a weekly, sometimes even on a daily basis.  
But this was too soon. He wiped the blood out of his eyes. They were barely 30 now, having only one tenth of their estimated lifespan behind them.  
The head wound was not severe, but it bled a lot and interfered with his vision. He ducked under a swing and lashed out himself, smoothly sizing through fabric and flesh.  
One more cut. One more move. Cold steel bit into bones again. He screamed in agony and fell to his knees. There were too many. Simply too many.  
He slumped to the side. Too little will to live on. Not with all his brothers gone.


	6. Scars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: turtlecest, sexual situation

There was a new nick in his brother’s shell. It was barely visible, just about an inch long and very sallow. But it was there. And now that he had spotted that flaw, it stood out even more.   
Donatello did not like that at all and his grip on Leonardo’s shell tightened. The presence of that nick meant that today, the enemy came once more close enough to strike, close enough to leave a visible and permanent mark. It took long for their shells to grow and shed enough for such traces to disappear. He would see that mark for months.   
Determined to leave mark of his own tonight, Donatello lifted Leonardo’s hips higher and increased his movements. If Leonardo sensed the slight shift in mood, he would not let on about it.


End file.
